


Don't Shoot the Messenger

by zetsubou69



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Illusions, M/M, Magic, Negotiations, Secret Identity, Tony doesn't hold grudges, ship only if you squint very hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 15:59:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15998579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubou69/pseuds/zetsubou69
Summary: From time to time, Tony's mind screams "Danger! Danger!" at him. Coincidentally, there's a new charming and friendly journalist in the town. So who is this Andrew Birch guy and what does he want?





	Don't Shoot the Messenger

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this post and knew what had to happen: http://umanyanko.tumblr.com/post/170886621396

If there was one thing Tony was completely used to, it was being watched. As a son of a famous businessman and an heir to a technological empire, he was used to people staring at him, photographers taking pictures, random people asking for his signature, all that before he reached adulthood. He knew what being watched felt like and he honed his senses to be aware when suddenly someone recognized him so he could perform accordingly. He practised being unseen when it suited his needs too. Aunt Peggy taught him the best tricks after all.

 

Still, today’s crowd felt different somehow and he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

 

He was dressed to the nines with his best friend and the CEO of his company Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts by his right hand, presenting new products by Stark industries. The R&D had outdone itself, pushing several original ideas; a new type of solar power generating glass he just couldn’t wait to implement into next-gen Starkphones, a water purification system that would be tested further at their Indian branch, and a new generation of smart pens that you could use to write on any screen or paper, just switching between ink and smart-tip.

 

The flashes of the cameras were blinding – but not enough for Tony not to memorize the faces of every journalist in the room, even though Jarvis had vetted them previously. Tony dutifully answered all questions, remembering to name people behind each new invention. Pepper was pleased, and not even Miss Everheart had any snarky comments this time.

 

Still, the hair on the nape of his neck stood, as if in alert for danger, so he spent the afternoon having Jarvis do a background check on everyone. When he found nothing, he reluctantly let it go.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

A whole month of peace (if one doesn’t count the ongoing-for-a-year-already post SHIELD clean up and two pseudo-villains that made it on the front page only because the Avengers were there to stop them) passed, before the feeling was back. It was the next SI press conference about the launch of their satellites to the orbit in a plan to make phone calls and internet available more easily. There were many familiar faces at the conference and then some fresh ones, bloggers and freelance journalists. Nobody stood out. Everyone seemed harmless, but looks may deceive and Tony’s sixth sense was warning him against danger, thus he double-checked his gauntlet bracelet. Ready to fire.

 

The press conference continued and finished peacefully, aside from obligatory cheerful explanations, and neither Jarvis nor Happy reported anything unusual about it. Tony blamed it on being overworked and moved on again.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

The third time it happened, (why is it a fact, that third time is the charm) he was presenting a new way to make plasters for people with broken bones – no more gypsum, only renewable plastics. SI bought the patent and now intended to implement it all around America, then abroad. He started by showing off the creator and the product, then Tony moved on to the financial impacts on the patients and the system. He got the alarming feeling, the same one that he gets only when in mortal danger, when one of the journalists raised his hand and got to ask his question.

 

“Andrew Birch, facts don’t grow on trees dot org. Doctor Stark, does Stark Industries plan to focus on medical technologies only, or are any pharmaceutical inventions waiting in your R&D too? What can we expect in upcoming years? And how are you planning to keep it affordable according to your plans? Given US unfriendly approach to public healthcare, isn’t your promise just foolishly hopeful?”

 

Tony took a good look at the speaker. Tall, male, short blond hair, sharp features, British accent, well dressed in a grey suit, but nothing extravagantly expensive. He’s seen Birch at his press conferences twice already, but this was the first time this man has asked a question.

 

“There are many projects that our scientists and engineers are working on and we’re always on the look for a fresh talent, but unless a product is ready for the public, it is our policy not to say anything about it. But rest assured that this is not the last thing Stark Industries created to make someone’s life bit easier. And to your other question, SI is a big fan of affordable healthcare. Every each of our half a million employees or interns all around the world get insurance and plenty of benefits. But since we can’t employ everyone, creating the technology that produces low-cost high-performance products and ensuring we only deal with business partners who believe in the same anti-exploitation policies, those are our goals and we do not budge.”

 

Birch thanked him for his answer, obviously satisfied and more hands and more questions followed by other people.

 

Once again, Tony was alert and ready to fight until the tension left him after the last of those journalists exited his tower.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

The fourth time it was no press conference, but a social gathering thrown in honour of building hospitals in Cape Town (he won’t deny it’s a bad cry for forgiveness after the Ultron Incident) and finding rich people who want to pay for it to ease their souls. Tony was spending his night chatting with people, shaking hands and handing out smiles while he was drinking non-alcoholic cocktails with cute umbrellas. Halfway through the night, Tony got a bad feeling that someone very dangerous was around, so he excused himself from the conversation and turned to go and find Happy and Pepper and check with them in person. He barely made few steps before someone else stopped him in his tracks; the journalist from a press conference a few weeks ago.

 

Birch was wearing a black velvet suit that made Tony question his policy to no more sleep with journalists (and let’s ignore the fact that not everyone is an equal opportunity person).

 

“Call me Andrew, please,” Birch said to Tony as they shook hands. He had a firm hold, and his hands were rougher than one would expect from a journalist, even if he worked out.

 

“Sure thing, Andrew. How are you enjoying this evening?” Tony replied.

 

“It’s quite splendid, doctor Stark. What inspired you to this pursuit?”

 

“The statistics have shown that if someone is hurt in that area, the distance they have to traverse to get to any hospital significantly lowers patient’s chances for recovery, compared to wealthier districts. In addition to that, SI believes in affordable healthcare of all kinds to everyone and many people don’t have good insurance which leads to the patients or their families being pushed into recurring debt traps. Once again a thing unheard of among more fortunate people. And if it eases the conscience of those investors, SI considers it a win-win solution.”

 

Tony’s short speech made Birch chuckle.

 

“Did you rehearse that speech before or after you put on today’s suit, doctor Stark?” he asked teasingly with a soft smile curling his lips.

 

“Before. We already had one press conference on this topic. You’ve been missed there. Your project showing the troubles of freelance and investigative journalism is quite interesting, but I presume other duties kept you from listening to the incredible me?” Tony joked in return. He was honest about his opinion on Birch’s project. The name of the journalist’s site was quite catchy and Jarvis too found it most intriguing that the man dedicated his time to the pursuit of truth, separating it from mere stories.

 

“I’m afraid I can’t dedicate all my time to your conferences only. As you might have read, freelance journalism doesn’t always pay enough to be the sole income of a man. Thus I have to diversify and focus my attention elsewhere sometimes,” Birch replied with an apologetic shrug, a perfect actor’s gesture if Tony’s ever seen one.

 

“We do what we can. Now you’ll have to excuse me, I need to take care of something. Meanwhile please have a drink on me, the bar’s open and free for tonight,” Tony excused himself, remembering what he meant to do in the first place.

 

So Andrew turned around and went to get a drink, accepting he’s been dismissed. As he was leaving, he passed by a mirror on a wall, and Tony would swear, that for a second, Andrew’s reflection in the mirror was of a rather different person; one with long dark hair instead.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

Next time he got the feeling, coincidentally the next time he saw Andrew Birch, it was a private no-press-allowed Independence Day celebration at some very rich politician’s place, that served as an opportunity for scientists to steal each other’s ideas while everyone’s getting drunk on the cheap rum punch or sparkling wine.

 

It was late afternoon, the sun was getting low and there were fireworks scheduled for two hours later. It would be almost romantic.  Tony saw the blond man sporting the same grey suit from the first press conference, chatting up Pepper who looked magnificent from the distance. They were standing next to an outdoor pool that no one was swimming in. The surface of the water was calm in the absence of wind, reflecting his best friend’s image like a mirror. The second Tony’s eyes slipped to the image of the man next to her he froze.

 

The water was not reflecting an image of one Andrew Birch, blond Englishman in a grey suit. Yes, there was a man in that reflection. But he was not dressed in greys, instead, he was dressed in greens and golds, an intricate leather, fabric, and metal attire Tony’s seen before once. He’s seen it in detail and he didn’t think he could forget that attire. Neither could Tony forget the horned helmet the reflection was wearing, or the smirk and the black hair.

 

He took a look around. There were too many civilians, innocents, politicians, waiters and waitresses. If this was Loki’s disguise he wasn’t planning on violent confrontation. If he did, he would have caused much chaos before. Instead, he played a journalist and a fairly good one. He was such a good actor Tony didn’t see this coming.

 

So he put on a smile and walked to the talking pair.

 

“Hello, Andrew. Pepper, darling, I hope you are not gossiping about me with a journalist? I know he is quite something, but please spare him the juicy gossip. If I plan to have a civil conversation, he can’t have all the advantages!”

 

“Oh Tony, the moment you stop believing the world revolves around you I might check for a clone!” she laughed, resting her hand on Tony’s arm in a friendly gesture.

 

“It does not? I am shocked! Someone should fix that!” Tony exclaimed in feigned shock.

 

“Good evening, doctor Stark. Let me assure you, that we were only discussing the impact of SI’s technological advances on the society.”

 

“Well, in that case, I can breathe freely. Anyway, Pepper, your friend Kara from legal finally arrived. If you want to say hi to her, I can keep Andrew here a company and give everyone something to gossip about?” he offered along with his cheekiest and dorkiest smile.

 

Pepper blinked twice then smiled back at him.

 

“Thank you, Tony. It’s been a pleasure to have met you, Mr Birch. I hope we get a chance to speak again. Please don’t let Tony drag you into trouble.”

 

“The pleasure was all mine, Miss Potts. And don’t worry, we’ll behave,” he joked back, and then they were standing next to the pool alone, just Tony and a wanted criminal in disguise.

 

The moment Pepper left, Tony’s gauntlet slipped on and his smile dropped.

 

“So what’s your deal, Reindeer?” he asked, staring intently into green-blue eyes of the other man.

 

Loki sighed.

 

“Peace, Stark. I mean no harm.”

 

That didn’t ease Tony’s worries a bit. However, he relaxed his posture so whoever was watching would think they were just having a friendly chat.

 

“So you, coming here dressed like that, that has nothing to do with the army you brought the last time?”

 

 Loki smirked, and his hair darkened a shade or two in the reddish light of the sunset.

 

“I had to get your attention somehow. What helped you see it is me?”

 

“The reflection in the water shows a different picture.”

 

Loki kept on smiling. Tony checked the reflection again, and this time he saw a blond man in a grey suit again.

 

“You’ve lured me here,” Tony realized.

 

“I’m afraid our game of getting to know each other needs to progress faster,” Loki offered apologetically.

 

“So you have been playing us like fools.”

 

“I’ve been at an advantage. But I needed to make certain first that you would hear my message, when it the time came for it.”

 

Tony considered his option for a moment, but there was only one logical outcome.

 

“What message?”

 

“There’s an army coming for the Earth. They are coming to reclaim what’s been lost, what’s been promised, and what’s is desired.”

 

Last sunrays disappeared from Loki’s face as the sun set and left them in a slowly greying world. Tony chased away flashbacks of a vision filled with space-monsters and dead friends.

 

“How big is the army?”   

 

“You have seen but a fraction of it. But they’ve heard your name. The Merchant of Death, the one to win a battle with a single stroke. He has heard your name, and he is coming for something you hold dear.”

 

“So aliens are on Earth and they trade gossip with the rest of the universe. Great. Who is he and what does he want? And do we really have to play twenty questions now?” Tony rolled his eyes.

 

“Indulge me. They call him the Mad Titan. The last of his kind. He courts Death. He seeks the Infinity Stones, one of which is now embedded in your child’s forehead. There are two more hidden on the Earth. He desires to wipe the life out with a snap of his fingers. And were he to collect all of the six stones, he will have the power to do so.”

 

Vision. Vision was in danger. And the rest of the Earth too.

 

“When will they arrive?”

 

“Anything between few months and few years. No more than five. The convergence, unfortunately, shifted the universes closer together.”

 

“Why even come to me? I am just one man. Don’t you have an army stashed somewhere? Shouldn’t you go and try the New Shield or some other armies?”

 

Loki just kept looking at him, as if it were obvious.

 

“Because you have seen. And I need an ally,” he stated simply.

 

“How do you even know all of this stuff? And don’t tell me magic,” Tony made a dismissive gesture with his non-gauntleted hand. “If you want my cooperation, give me this truth.”

 

“He was the force behind my previous… unfortunate arrival here. I know that’s not an excuse, but his persuasion skills are quite unsavoury,” Loki confessed.

 

The artificial lights start slowly turning on around the pool and the patio and they both notice there was a couple walking in their direction.

 

“Does your brother know you’re alive? Last time he was here he was mourning you.”

 

Loki shook his head once.

 

“I did die. It just did not stick. I don’t need him changing that anytime soon.”

 

Tony nodded in silence.

 

“So have I pledged my case to your satisfaction?”

 

Tony’s gauntlet slowly folded back into a bracelet.

 

“I’m giving you the benefit of doubt. Stop by Stark tower tomorrow. Lunchtime. We’ll have Italian and I’ll invoke one of your rules about no harm between the host and the guest. Just one final question, who is Andrew Birch anyway?”

 

Loki smirked, and short hair or not, Tony was amazed by how much of own his face Loki put into this façade. He looked perfectly himself now and he didn’t even need the Asgardian armour for it.

 

“I had to reinvent myself to stay here. Why, do you like the new me?”

 

“Not really. Worst disguise ever.” Lie, and an obvious one. Loki didn’t call him out on it.

 

More people began to leave the house and the sound of their chatter reached the men.

 

“Well, doctor Stark, thank you for your time today and I’ll see you tomorrow,” Loki offered his hand in a handshake and Tony accepted it.

 

Because if the Asgardian was right, the safety of the world depended on playing nice.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
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